Rebuilding
by BleedingLove101
Summary: Six years ago, she was newlywed and her future was bright. Now, she was in a city she knew nothing about and where nobody knew her. She had just committed a crime, although it was a just punishment in her eyes, and had no idea what was in store for her.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hi everybody! Wow, first story on the site. Hope you like it! It helps if you listen to the song that goes with the chapter. **

**Chapter song – **_Thoughtless _by Evanescence

**Chapter 1: It's Over.**

I have to get out of here. Just clean up and leave. Then we'll be free. We won't ever have to see him again and everything will all be over. All the pain, all the humiliation; it will all be things of the past. The nightmare will finally end.

I could see my hand move towards the blood. I touched it. A cautious movement, as if my hand wasn't sure the blood was actually real. The movement had a mechanical feel to it. I wasn't even aware my hand was moving until I saw it. My body was on auto-pilot. Everything was happening of its own accord. All I wanted to do was leave. Get away while I still could. But my legs wouldn't move.

My eyes surveyed the damage. The room looked…well, it didn't look like a room anymore, more like a crime scene. Wait, that's not the word for it. This wasn't a crime. It wasn't. I had to do it. It wouldn't have stopped if I hadn't. This was not a crime.

A lamp was smashed next to the dresser. Another was next to the closet. I could see pieces of glass all around the floor. Clothes were strewn across the floor, many of them being destroyed and tainted with red. The curtains were ripped apart, giving me a view of the full moon. That was the only light in the room. The walls were empty; everything that was on it having been thrown in the last two hours. Picture frames were scattered everywhere. One of them was reflecting light from the open window. It was the picture that marked the beginning of it all. I could feel myself walking towards it, and then looking down at it.

The white dress looked almost translucent in the moonlight. His shaggy blonde hair was untamable even back then. His cerulean eyes stood out from his black tuxedo. You could see that he was happy. It was obvious in his eyes and his smile. Was he happy though? Did he know what he would become? Or was he already that to begin with? If that was the case…was everything else an act?

His arms were around a brunette. Her hair contrasted nicely with the paleness of her skin. Her smile was so bright. But I could not think of that smiling woman, her eyes glowing with happiness at what she thought was to come, as me. I hadn't been her in a long time. As my eyes continued their inspection of the room, they moved towards the bed…and they landed across _him_.

His body was face-up. He had nothing but boxers on. His eyes were closed, hiding those cerulean oceans that I had once loved to look into. But that was a long time ago. The blonde hair was matted with blood, so much that it appeared brown in some places, and it stuck to his forehead. Some of the blood was still making its way down his head, leaving behind a trail of red. His arms were spread out awkwardly, making him look like a bird with a broken wing. Guess his arms were broken.

Hmm. It appeared that some of the cuts had stopped bleeding, the blood having dried up all over the arm. Apparently, this was the same case with his legs. His torso was still bleeding though, so not all was bad. There were burn marks across his torso and legs and arms. How odd...I don't remember doing that. Oh well.

His neck was at an odd angle. There was a cut there that was deep enough to draw blood but not deep enough to sever a main artery. It was as if it was made with great precision. If you looked carefully, under all the blood, you could see the places where the rope was tied and where it dug into his skin, almost reaching bone. The same thing could be seen with his wrists and ankles. One of his legs looked broken. Not sure about the other one. I was sure that one foot was broken though. I remember that much.

I want to look away. I feel that I should be disgusted or revolted at the side of him. He just looked so…beaten and broken and so…red. Red is the only thing I can see. It's blocking everything out. I turn, wanting to get away from the red. It's still there. I look around: it's everywhere. I try to run. I just want the red to go away. There's a sound. I stop.

What was that? Did something just moan? I turn around and slowly head back to the room. There it is again. Is it _him_? How is he still conscious?

He moans loader this time. I can see him try to move his head. But he moans even loader when he tries. His eyes open. I unconsciously start walk towards him. I'm close enough to see his eyes. They look so lost and…scared, terrified.

I can't help it. I giggle. The giggle turns into more and soon I am laughing. His eyes grow large as the laughter continues. I can practically feel the terror as it radiates from him. I sneak a peek at his face.

"Hi." Is that a whimper I hear from him? That sound is usually emanating from my mouth, not his. The saying karma's a bitch has never been truer. I caress his cheek with my hand. He finches, tries to would be more accurate, from my touch. Then he groans in pain from the sudden movement.

His eyes plead with me to stop. He doesn't want me to hurt him anymore. He's at my mercy; completely at my mercy. I can feel myself smile at the thought.

"Sss…sssooo…" Is he trying to talk? What the hell is he trying to say? "Sssooorry…sssooorry…" I lost it. HOW DARE HE??? After all this time…how dare he apologize? After everything he did, does he think a simple 'sorry' is going to make me forgive him.

No…that's not what he thinks at all. He just wants me to stop. Well, I'm not going to hurt him anymore, regardless of whether he's sorry or not. I know if I hurt him again I'll lose control and I can't let that happen. After all, I don't want to kill the guy. Just injure him as much as possible without him ending up dead.

I turn to leave, glad that my legs are cooperating now. I feel I should say goodbye or something; something is needed to mark the end of it all. I head back towards him. I bend down but then hesitate. Should I? I should.

I close the distance and my lips meet his. A simple peck, no more than two seconds, yet I can taste the blood.

His horrified eyes look up to mine, cerulean meeting brown. His eyes see my tongue slowly lick the blood off my lips. It tastes like rusted salt. I look into his eyes for the last time, faintly remembering times when I used to look into them like they were my whole world. I'd gone from gazing into them with love to cowering from them as they turned a stormy blue, like the sky before a powerful storm.

I head outside, grabbing the car keys from the front table. I'm void of feelings when I cross the front door. No regret, no happiness, not even the feeling of freedom I was expecting and desperately anticipating.

My feet take me towards my car, a silver Mazerati. It was an 'I'm sorry. Forgive me?' gift. At least it's going to be good for something, but I didn't think _he_ bought it for me with the intention of making it a getaway car after I brutally, almost to the point of it being savagely, torturing him.

I hear a car's engine in the distance. Seems like his brothers did end up hearing the message I left them. Want to know something? They should be bleeding next to their brother. They knew everything and did nothing. His entire family knew. Yet, none of them took pity on me. None of them offered me any help or a way out.

It seems that during my pondering, their car had turned the corner and became visible as it came up fast on the isolated road and parked in front of the house. I open my car door and get in. As I am putting on my seatbelt, I hear his older brother, Dean, scream _his_ name. I think what I did actually astonished them. I can see their faces through the open window. Dean is screaming at his phone, I assume he called his father, and keeps throwing glances at _his_ mangled body. Sebastian is just frozen in either shock or terror. He turns his head and sees me. I smile, it might have come out as a smirk, and wave. He stares at me, as if seeing me for the first time. Dean follows his brother's gaze and comes across me. I smirk at him while revving the car's engine. He shoots me a glare that used to have me cowering in my feet. Now I just lift my chin up defiantly, finger the knife in my pocket and wish that he'd come out and hold what I did against me. He wouldn't look so hot with scar marks all over his face and I doubt his blond-trophy wife would stick with him when he was looking like that. Although she might for the money…

The family won't do anything this…_incident_. If they do and I somehow end up behind bars for this, they know I'll open my mouth about everything. And what I have to say about the sacred Caldwell family itself and their son Trevor is not going to look good on the front page of _The New York Times._ Oh, if only the world knew what the prestigious Caldwells have going on behind closed doors. What would they think about their ideal family then; about the family behind one of the top business companies in America? Regardless, they won't open their mouths because then I'll expose so much shit on them that they'll be talked about for decades, and they know it. They're scared because they're in my hands and at my mercy. Good, let them live in fear. They deserve it after I lived in fear for so long.

With a last mental goodbye to the place and its current inhabitants, I back out of the driveway and speed down the road. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I idly wonder if either of the brothers will find the divorce papers that are on the coffee table.

* * *

**What'd you think? Bad, good, could use some work? It's my first story and this idea's been in my head for months. Tell me if I should continue or not. I have two other chapters written, so it's all up to the readers. Review please.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Sorry for the short chapter. It's the last chapter before the plot actually begins to unfold. **

**Chapter Song – **_Eternal_** by **Evanescence

The car speeds down the deserted road, heading towards J.F.K International Airport. _Ring. Ring._

I glance at my cell phone's screen. **Dean Caldwell Calling.** About damn time he called. I was getting worried that I hadn't predicted their reactions correctly and that maybe I was going to end up in a women's correctional facility.

I click the green button. "ISABELLA!!! WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING THROUGH THAT PATHETIC EXCUSE OFA HE—"

"Gosh, get a grip on yourself Dean. One would think I actually killed the guy."

"ACTUALLY KILLED THE GUY!?? BITCH, YOU BASICALLY RAVAGED HIS BODY!!! IT LOOKS LIKE A FUCKING BEAR ATTACKED HIM AND THEN DECIDED TO MANGLE HIS BODY!!! BROKEN ARMS, BROKEN LEGS, HIS NECK IS FRACTURED, HE LOOKS BURNED IN SOME PLACES…YOU'RE LUCKY THAT OUR FAMILY DOCTOR CHECKED HIM IN THE HOSPITAL OR ELSE YOUR FACE WOULD'VE BEEN DISPLAYED ACROSS EVERY NEWSTATION IN AMERICA. AND IT WILL BE AS SOON AS TREVOR IS THE POLICE GET THEIR HANDS ON YOU—"

"And that's where I stop you Dean. You are not going to send the police after me. You're just going to be sending me from one hellhole to another and that's something that I will not allow you to do."

"WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO DO ??!! WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU FUCKING ARE TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO? AFTER WHAT YOU DID TO MY BROTHER YOU DON'T DESERVE ANYTHING BUT TO ROT IN JAIL!! NO, I TAKE THAT BACK. WHAT YOU DID TO MY BROTHER IS SOMETHING THAT A PSYCOPATH WOULD HAVE DONE SO YOU SHOULD ROT IN A PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL WITH CRAZY BITCHES JUST LIKE Y—"

"Quite the hypocrite, aren't you Caldwell? Listen to me and listen well because I don't ever plan on having this conversation again. Let's say that you actually have the audacity to call the police. Granted the slight…nature of my crime will be enough to land my at least a 20-year sentence in jail and that would certainly put a damper on my future. But then the entire word would know about everything the Caldwells have going of behind closed doors. And I mean everything: the embezzlement, the drug cartel, the forging of taxes and their returns, the bribing, the stealing. Should I go on? If I get really desperate, I might even mention exactly what my life has been like since I married Trevor. How he treats me: how all of you know how he treats me and do nothing about it. The hookers, the drugs—"

"Stop. Just…what you're saying is that you'll open your mouth. Goddamn it!! Listen…just don't come into our lives ever again. We'll give you whatever you want. Money, a place to stay, anything, you name it. We won't press charges if you just go."

"You say that like you're reassuring me. As if I give a shit if I end up in a prison cell. At least I got away from that house. I did what I should have done the moment it all started. That animal got of fucking easy. I should have castrated him, then burned him alive slowly, making sure that he sees his limbs as they turn to ashes—"

"Shut up, you fucking psycho bitch!! Just name a price and we'll make sure you get what you need."

"I took what I would need. You think I would actually do what I did unprepared? Calm your whiny ass down. Just make sure I never see his face or I'll kill him without a second thought and be damn sure I'm going to enjoy it. You should have known just by observing me these past few months that I wasn't that same weak bitch he married and lived with for the past six years. I have no limits anymore and nothing's too extreme or farfetched for me. Everything I've been through has made me capable of withstanding anything."

"Fine. Then this conversations over."

"Alright then. Eager to be gone aren't you. Ha. Tell my husband to send over the divorce papers I left on the coffee table. Oh, and tell him that I kept his ring. I hope he doesn't mind." I laugh.

Dial tone.

"Well that went fairly well." And to think I expected less of a hassle. Honestly, I thought they would have figured it out. Seriously, with the amount of information I have on them, they should know that I'd threaten them with it.

The ride to the airport was almost over. Hmm. I glance at my watch. 45 minutes left till my flight takes off. Gives me just enough time to check in, get to my gate and grab a bite to eat. I pull my car into the loading dock for plane-headed cars. I turn the car off, but leave the keys in the ignition and get out. I sign my car in the roster sheet and head to the luggage check-in area

I check the 2 suitcases I had in my car and head to my terminal. Along the way, I spot a Starbucks and decide to go there for breakfast. Does it even count as breakfast if it's only 5: 07 in the morning? Wow…hard to believe it's been 2 hours since I stepped out of that house.

I buy two doughnuts and a small caramel macchiato and sit at a table. As I sit and eat, my mind wanders back to the last few hours. Would you honestly believe me if I told you that none of this was planned? Sure, the suitcases had been packed and in the car, but that was just in case I was kicked out of the house without a chance to grab my things. See, I wasn't planning on doing anything to Trevor. I just wanted him to know that I was leaving and that he would be expected to sign the divorce papers. But then things took a turn for the worst.

He grabbed me by the wrists and shook me, yelling that I wasn't going anywhere he didn't want me to go. That I belonged to him and I wasn't ever going to walk out of that house alone. That I wasn't ever going to be free of him. And then he kissed me.

I could feel the raw need behind the kiss. The need to know that I wasn't ever going to go anywhere; that I would always be waiting for him when he got home.

The first time he kissed me like this was the first time that I truly acknowledged that he wasn't the same man that was my high school sweetheart when I was seventeen. The first time he kissed me like that was when he forcibly took me. Ignoring my pleas, my cries, he raped me. Again and again until he was spent and had assured himself that I was always going to be his. And then he got up, left me there naked and crying, and waltzed out the door.

The shock, the humiliation, the betrayal, the pain. I felt so disgusting and cheap. I remember that I didn't get up for twenty minutes, trying to understand how everything had gotten this far. I slowly got up, ignoring the ache in most of my joints as I did, and walked to the bathroom. When I saw myself in the mirror, it was when I knew the last shred of my dignity had disappeared. I wasn't Isabella anymore. And I certainly wasn't Bella. I washed and scrubbed and scrubbed, trying to get the memory of him touching me out of my body. The feeling that washed over me when I realized that nothing was ever going to get rid of the memory knocked me to my knees. I cried. I screamed, cursing everything and everybody. And I let the last of Isabella Marie Swan wash down the drain. She was gone and in her place was somebody who let anything happen to her and who had no ounce of self-esteem or dignity. She didn't think anything of herself and she was sure the world thought nothing of her. She was weak and she accepted it because she wasn't ever going to be strong or beautiful or smart. She was nothing.

I blink my eyes, cursing myself as I can feel the tears run down my face. I angrily wipe them away, wanting nothing in common with the sad excuse of a girl from my memories. I throw away the now empty cup and the doughnut. I head to my terminal and am glad to see that my 5: 30 flight to Los Angeles, California is now boarding. I show the flight attendant my tickets, correcting her when she calls me Mrs. Caldwell.

"Miss. Swan, actually. I was never a Caldwell." She mumbles an apology and I walk away, leaving her to ponder my words. The stewardess directs me to my seat (first –class of course, why not waste money that's not even yours?) and informs me we will be taking off shortly. I place my carry-on in the seat next to me and fasten my seatbelt. Then I close my eyes and escape into my head.

**2****nd**** chapter on the site. YaY! Thanks to my reviewers for taking the time to look at my work! You guys are awesome! Review please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: So sorry for the long wait! My personal life was so hectic and I needed a break. Here's the third chapter.**

**Disclaimer: So I forgot about the disclaimer for the past two chapters. But, here it is: I do not own Twilight. This is just me borrowing the characters for my own enjoyment.**

**Chapter Song – **_Going Under_by Evanescence

I open my eyes as the plane begins its descent. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I glance out the window and see the ground gradually grow larger beneath me.

Soon, the plane lands and I walk out with my carry-on in hand. Grabbing my luggage of the conveyor belt, I make my way to the front of the airport. Sitting on a bench outside, I take out my cell phone and call the taxi service. When the taxi arrives I ask him to drive me to the nearest hotel. The drive there is quiet, but the driver isn't having it. He goes on to tell me that the city has been his childhood home and that he doesn't plan on leaving anytime soon. Then he asks me what brought me here. Well I like to think it was Trevor that brought me to move to the other side of the country. But not wanting the driver to try to figure out why Trevor Caldwell would cause such a drastic move, I don't say anything. Persistent, the driver asks again.

"I needed a change." That's a broad enough answer. He didn't need to know that the change was from my abusive husband. 'Hopefully ex-husband soon' I think to myself.

By now, we've arrived at the hotel. Retrieving my luggage from the taxi, I pay the driver and check myself into the hotel. After grabbing my room card from the counter, I head to the elevator, rolling my suitcase behind me. Arriving at my room, I place the card into the slot and open the door.

Closing the door behind me, I glance around the suite. The suite is nice: beige in color a small kitchen with a table for two. Across the room is a medium-sized couch with a TV in front of it. There's a door leading to the bathroom, and on the other side of the bathroom, there's a door that leads to the bedroom. A king-sized bed with green covers lies in the middle. There's a TV in the corner and a closet across from the bed. I walk across the room and towards the open window. Looking down at the view beneath me, I see the scenery behind the hotel. There's a pond in the middle with benches on the edges. Trees are scattered around the pond. The sight is absolutely breathtaking. Yet, my mind is not focused on the scenery.

It's clouded with images of everything that's been done to me. How he meticulously broke me down until there was nothing left. He took it all, everything from my self-esteem to my virginity, and destroyed it. I trusted him but he still played me to his will.

To him, I was home. No matter what he did and how much he changed, I was always there and that gave him a sense of belonging. He knew that I'd always be waiting for him when he got out of work. I don't know if Trevor deluded himself into thinking that by giving me so much of his emotions, whether it be lust, rage or disgust, he proved that he still loved me or if he even loved me at all. All I know was that whenever I mentioned leaving him or started fighting against his hold over me, there was this wild desperation in his eyes. The kiss that always followed was forceful, painful and possessive, yet there was always this underlying tone of vulnerability and terror. It was as if he wouldn't function without me or as if he was scared at the thought of being emotionally alone. He could get as much sex as he wanted, but nobody would give him what I gave him. I devoted eight years of my life to him. I was married to him for six years. I loved him whole-heartedly and I knew him inside-out. Whenever his father was on his case or he would screw up, I was there. I helped him get himself back together and I made sure he was stable. He loved me. I know he did. I was his everything…I know I was.

I didn't realize that I was on the ground at this point. My back was against the wall and my knees were against my chest. I could feel tears stinging my eyes but I refused to let them fall, especially now that I was sure that he was going to fall apart without me. He'll be out of control until he gets what he claimed as his and nothing is going to keep him from getting to me. What he'll do when he finds me, I don't know and neither will I ever be able to comprehend why he did what he did to me.

All I know was that I couldn't take it anymore. I had enough of it all: the rape, the beatings, the verbal and physical abuse. I had had enough with having him making me feel like I deserved what I was getting. The worst part of it all was that there were times that I believed I was getting what I deserved. Sometimes, I yearned for him to beat me, just so that he would pay attention to me. On the off day that he would break down in front of me, I held in my arms a different man than I was used to receiving. I would take care of him and he would hold me in his arms like I was the one thing that kept him alive. He would look at me with love and adoration shining in those cerulean eyes of his and then he would whisper in my ear that he loved me and that he didn't know what he would do without me. And then he'd kiss me.

The kiss differed greatly than the ones he would normally give me. It was one of pure love. His hand would cup my face while my hands wound around his neck. And then I would remember our last kiss and I'd push him away in terror. I'd close my eyes and replay each of those moments in which he raped me. Trevor would ask me what was wrong as he slowly came closer to me and I'd scream at him to stop. I'd open my eyes to see him in front of me with understanding in his eyes.

"Isabella, I'm sorry. You don't know how much you're screams have haunted me…the look of terror in your eyes as I…You have to understand that-"

"I don't have to understand anything! You say this every single time! Every single time Trevor! How you have to remind me that I'm yours and that I can't leave you. How you do it all because you love me and can't stand to see me walk away from you. I know that when you proposed to me, you said you'd do anything to keep me by your side. I didn't think that it meant you'd constantly rape me and beat me. Tearing me down so that I'd have no choice to stay by you. No matter how screwed up you are."

"I am not screwed up! I love you! No matter what I do to you, I love you! And I meant it when I said I was going to do anything to keep you by my side. I love you! You have to believe that," he said, advancing on me.

"I'd never have thought about leaving if you hadn't treated me like this Trevor. But I have to leave for my sanity. As much as every single cell in my body begs me to go you, to take you in my arms and love you-"

"Well, why don't you? I need you, Isabella! I make you happy, don't I?"

"You make me happy when you're like this! When I see the boy I fell in love with in high school. Not the man I married. I don't want to leave, I really don't. But I can't take this anymore Trevor. You've almost broken me and if I stay here any longer, I will lose myself. I have to leave Trevor. If you care you-"

The look in his eyes stopped me. They clouded over and became a dark blue. I knew what was coming and ran to the bathroom. A hand shot out to grab me around my stomach. He slammed me against the wall, attacking my mouth with his. As usual, his kiss took on a possessive tone. I struggled, knowing it was useless. His kisses moved down to my neck and I was sure they would leave marks there.

"You're" kiss "never" kiss "going" moan "leave" hands lift my shirt over my head "me."

I don't know how we got to the bed. I learned by now just to let him ride out his emotions and try to ignore the pain.

He takes me and marks me as his over and over, while I plead and beg with him to stop. "Mine…always mine." he claims over and over again. When he feels that his dominance has been established, he turns gentle. He begins murmuring words of consolation, caressing my body, kissing away the tears that are steadily falling down my face. A minute ago, he was brutally asserting his control over me and now he is treating me like a breakable doll.

By the time I've stopped crying, he's already started running a bath. As he carries me to the bathtub, one look in his eyes and I've seen that they've turned into the cerulean blue that I've fallen in love with. He gently puts me into the tub and gets in behind me. His hands start washing my hair and then my body, occasionally leaving kisses in his path. He tells me to relax and that he'll take care of me. It scares me how he can completely change his emotions with a simple action.

Now he's in front of me, caressing my face. I touch his check, astounded at the change that has just occurred. He leans into my touch, knowing that he's won me over. I start washing his hair, and he keeps his eyes on my face. I feel like I'm doing all the actions on auto-pilot, considering the fact that my mind is on something else. He leans in to kiss me. I let him. And he knows that all is forgiven until next time.

I stand up, heading to take a shower myself. Like my memory, my actions are on auto-pilot. My mind is on what I was feeling while I took my revenge. Rage, gratification and pleasure being the most prominent emotions that coursed through me at the time. I know that although what I did to Trevor was justice and less than what he deserved; when it comes down to it, it was wrong. It's even more wrong that I want to go back and do it all over again and make the experience even more painful. None of his pain will ever compare to mine. It was all purely physical and even if it does leave an emotional toll on him, it won't be as horrible as mine is.

I get out of the shower and wrap a towel around my body. The mirror on the other side of the room catches my eye, yet I try my hardest to not look in it. I don't want to see what's left of me just so that I can once again compare it to what I once was. I honestly don't know what to do with myself at this point in my life. I didn't have a grandiose plan ready when I left. I'm in a foreign city and I don't know anybody. My closest family member is in Washington and I haven't talked to my father in five years. I cut off all contact with him at Trevor's demand and I don't know how he'd take to me showing up when I'm supposed to be living in New York with my husband. Besides, I have fresh bruises and stitches that I wouldn't be able to explain and with my father being a cop, he'd find out things eventually.

I'm been beaten and now I'm broken. Plain and simple. I fooled myself into thinking that I had changed. The girl that talked to Dean and took the flight from New York isn't real. She was the last resort I had to stop myself from recognizing that I'm broken. By acting like what I want to be, I deluded myself into thinking that I was actually her. How am I supposed to build myself up? What am I supposed to do? I hadn't really thought it all through when I left New York. I need a job and a place to live.

But, I'm not stable. I know I'm not stable. Proof of that lies in New York and is probably on a hospital bed by now. Any little thing can knock me down and I don't know what my reaction to it would be.

As I open my suitcase to find my pajamas, I realize that I'm not going to be able to do it alone. What's happened to me isn't something that someone could forget on sheer will. And I refuse to start my new life as an emotionally unstable woman. I'm going to forget all about Trevor Caldwell for now and focus on myself. He has family that'll make him forget all about me and I'm on my own. Although I'm still not sure how he'll take the news to me leaving or if he'll even sign the divorce papers that will set me free. Now that I put it that way, he won't sign them. Great, how did I not think about that? Physically, I'm free, yet legally, he still has a hold over me.

I suspect his recovery time to be from two to three months. Dean won't dare mention anything about my leaving to him until he's better. And when he knows that I'm gone, that his family let me just walk out on him, he's going to be mad. But enough about him, I don't have to worry about any of the Caldwells for at least three months. That should be enough for me to find a job and a place to live.

Finding my favorite blue pajamas, I put them on and get into bed. I turn off the light on the nightstand and the room goes dark.

Tomorrow I'll find a place to live and start looking for a job. Hopefully, my master's degree in linguistics will do some good. It won't be that hard to find a place to live with my bank account. And in a city as big as this one, it won't be that hard finding a job…hopefully. I'll settle for anything really, even something outside my area of expertise. I just need a steady income and the money that I transferred into my bank account a week ago will let me buy furniture and settle all the beginning expenses. I'll even hire an interior designer to go through all that tedious stuff that goes into getting a house ready. I won't have the patience to go through it alone and maybe that person will help me get started in Los Angeles.

It won't be hard to physically start over. It's the mental process that worries me. But, I know that I'll get through it. The only thing that worries me is how long it'll take. I need to be ready when he comes looking for me. Because if it's one thing I'm sure of, it's that he won't let me go. I've learned that little piece of information throughout the past six years.

With my plan ready for tomorrow, I close my eyes and go to sleep.

**So, I originally planned on introducing the Cullens in the chapter, or at least one of them, but I figured that Bella needed to come to terms with everything that happened to her. But, hopefully, you figured out that I plan on introducing one Cullen in the next chapter and you know who it'll be. I'm writing the chapters as I go so bare with me please. Hopefully the next one will be up on Friday. Review please! Tell me your thoughts!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Late update, I know! But like I said, I'm writing this story as I go and sometimes other things come up. I swear I'll try to get better at updating! But, I did write and extra long chapter to make up for it. Now, this chapter has some mature content. Keep in mind that this is the first time I write something like this so it might not be that good. Oh, and because of the content, I had to switch the rating from 'T' to 'M'. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. I just borrow the characters for my own enjoyment. **

**Chapter Song – **_Heavily__Broken _**by The Veronicas**

_My heart was pumping loudly in my ears as sheer terror coursed through my veins._ _I picked up the vase and threw it at him. Instead, I hear it shatter against the wall. Realizing Trevor ducked, I run towards the stairs. His yells echo around me as his steps thunder on the stairs behind me. I look around frantically for a place to hide. The door to the bathroom at the end of the hall is wide open. I push my legs as fast as they can go. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me close to his body. My legs flail wildly as I kick and scream, trying to get away. _

_ All of a sudden, I'm thrown onto a bed and he's straddling me. I keep screaming and trying to get away. He grabs my arms and places them above my head, holding them in place. His mouth forcibly lowers onto mine, bruising my lips as he kisses me. He moves down to my neck as my screams turn to pleas for him to stop. I can feel him biting and sucking on my neck. He uses his one free hand to lift my shirt over my head and then lets go of my hands to take of his own shirt. I start squirming and fighting to get out, but he backhands me and uses my hair to pull my face up to meet his. His teeth bite down onto my lower lip, pulling it as his dark blue eyes lock on mine. He smirks as he sees the terror reflecting from my brown eyes, bringing his lips to mine once more. He uses one hand to keep my head to his and the other goes around my back to unclip my bra. He pulls it away and starts roughly palming my breasts. Then his hand starts making its way towards my skirt, slipping beneath the fabric. My eyes become wide open in alarm as I start roughly pushing at his chest, fighting to get out. Cries start emitting from my lips as the impending destination becomes nearer. Tears start running down my face at an alarming pace as I feel his hand go under my panties. He locks his eyes to mine as two fingers enter me. _

I scream as I startle awake. My chest is heaving up and down as I try to get air into my lungs. I lift my hands to my face and find sweat and tears running down it. My hands cover my face as I close my eyes, trying to erase those memories from my mind.

I swing my legs off the bed and take a moment to catch my breath before walking to the bathroom. Turning on the faucet, I wash my face roughly while trying to erase the memory. I lean on the counter as my eyes adjust to the little light that streams from the window. Walking to my suitcase, I pull out my toothbrush and toothpaste and head back to the bathroom. I avoid looking in the mirror while brushing my teeth, not wanting to see what a night of reliving the past had done to me.

Finishing up, I head back towards the bed. I glance at the mirror and am shocked to find out that it's barely 5:00 AM. I know that I'm not going to be able to sleep any longer so I head to my suitcase and find something suitable to wear for what is going to be a busy day. I pull out a pair of black denim skinny jeans, a red v-neck, and a black leather jacket. Placing the clothes on the bed, I decide to start unpacking. I start off placing all my toiletries on the counter in the bathroom and then move on to put all my pajamas in the dresser in the bedroom. I place my three pairs of shoes in the closet before putting my clothes on hangers in the closet. Grabbing my wallet out of the suitcase, I lift open the bottom flap to pull out the money that I stashed beforehand. Looking at stacks of hundred dollar bills, I take out two stacks and leave the rest in the suitcase.

Now the only things left in my suitcases are important papers, like my degrees and resumes, and a photo album. The photo album catches my attention. I wasn't aware that I even packed it to begin with and I surely don't know the reason why. I don't bother opening it, not wanting to relive memory lane when I'm about to start anew. Yet, my hands tremble as I outline the lining of the album with my fingers. Holding my memories at bay, I lay the album on the nightstand.

I grab my set of clothes and head to the bathroom to take a bath.

Coming out of a relaxing bath 30 minutes later, I put on my v-neck and jeans and put concealer on the bruises surrounding my neck and try to hide my scars on left cheek, which were the result of Trevor threatening me with a knife after I succeeded in leaving for two days before he dragged me back to his house. Satisfied with the results, I put on my leather jacket, which would hide the bruises along my arms. I leave my wet hair loose, letting it gather its natural curls. Not bothering with any makeup except red lipstick, I leave the bathroom. I'm disappointed to see it is only 6:40 AM and that it's too early to get anything done.

But something has to be open, right? I could grab a coffee and gather information on local real estate agents and interior designers, maybe even available jobs, until it's a reasonable time to go start contacting said people. There you go Bella, that's an hour right there.

Putting my wallet in my back pocket and the two stacks of money in the interior pockets of the leather jacket, I grab the room card and quickly put on my red Converse. I find an elevator to take me down to the lobby and soon spot a small café just like at the airport. I buy a caramel macchiato, not in the mood to eat anything right now. Now, I just need to get information. The question is, where?

I scan the lobby in search of somebody that could help. I spot the concierge's desk, but see nobody at the desk. Damn, it's too early. However, I see a black-haired man with the hotel uniform head to the desk with a coffee in hand. 'Bingo!' I think as he sits down.

Quickly walking over to him with my half-empty coffee, I stop at the desk. He looks up, surprise clear in his brown eyes. "Hello, miss. Can I help you?" he says, clearly wondering what I could possibly want from him this early.

"I hope you don't think I'm a nuisance for asking for help this early and everything. But, I just…I couldn't wait and I have nothing else to do so I thought I'd get started on the day early. And you probably just checked in for work and now you have this lady who walked up to your desk at about 7:00 in the morning who wants something…so I-"

He cuts off my rambling with a small laugh, putting his coffee to his lips. Taking a short sip, he stares at me. His gaze unnerves me; it's been so long since I've been around people other than Trevor that I forget that not everybody is dangerous. My mind goes back to the dagger that I left in the suitcase and now wish that I brought down with me. Dispelling those thoughts with a shake of my head, I turn back towards the man. He puts down his coffee with a shake of his head. "Well, then miss. I started working at 4:00 so you have nothing to worry about. Why don't you just skip ahead to the part where you tell me what you want me to do and I'll get go ahead and get it done."

He glances expectantly at me. "Right, umm…I was hoping if you would be able to give me the contact information of a real estate agent and an interior designer." I ask, before taking a sip of my macchiato.

"Hmmm." He says, before turning to his computer and typing away. He notices that I've remained standing and gestures to a chair in front of his desk. I shake my head, preferring to stay standing up. "Do you want an appointment for today or sometime later this week?"

"The real estate agent could be today. I just want to the contact information on the designer." I state before glancing around to make sure my surroundings are safe and that Trevor isn't actually hiding around a corner somewhere. Hopefully, these instincts will dull as time goes by.

"Getting an appointment for today isn't going to be that easy miss," the concierge said, "This is Los Angeles, one of the busiest cities in the States."

"I know that. And I also know that the richer the customer, the more priority they have here. I want a house by the end of the day and I have the funds to back me up."

He just raised his eyebrows at me and then laughed. "Well, miss. I won't get in your way then." He went back to typing at his computer. "How does 12 o'clock sound?"

"That's fine. Is that the earliest you can get me?" I ask, twiddling with my now empty cup.

"Yes, miss. And under whose name shall the appointment be?"

"Umm," I hesitate. I don't want to use my married name. It'll be much easier to track and people will wonder what I'm doing here instead of New York. 'But being a Caldwell will give me priority…' No. I refuse to use any part of my past when I'm trying to start over. I told myself I would let go of everything when I stepped off that plane and I'm not going back. "Isabella Swan."

He just nods and goes back to typing away. I look at the plaque at the front of the desk. _Samuel Williams. _I glance back at him to see him picking up some papers out of the printer. "Well, Miss Swan, you have an appointment at 12:00 with Mrs. Jackie Harper's office. She's one of the best in the city and since you assured me you have the money, she'll be able to help you. The directions are at the bottom of the page." He places that page at in front of me.

"Is it far from here?"

"Not that much. I'd say a 30 minute car ride. That's if there's no traffic. So, I'd suggest leaving early. Now," he picks two more pages off the printer. "Here's a list of interior designers. The ones at the top will be more expensive of course, but I'd assume it be no problem." He glances at me. I shake my head. "Ok, then. They're all very well known so I'd suggest you start booking appointments already. Or if you want I can do that for you?"

"No, that's fine. I plan on buying the house first and then I'll worry about this." No need to get ahead of myself. After all, I've only been here a day.

"Very well then. If there's anything else I can help you with, Miss Swan?" he questioned.

"Umm…I'm going to need a car to take me to the agent's office. Would you have one ready by that time?"

"Would you need a driver?" He asks teasingly, as if he already knows I'd just get lost.

"Yes, please." I say, embarrassed at how easy I am to read.

"Consider it done, Miss Swan." He states with a smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Williams. I'm pretty sure I'll be back tomorrow with something else." I do need to get a car after all and maybe he'd help me find a job.

"Don't worry about it Miss Swan. I'll see you tomorrow. Your car will be waiting at 10:45." He grins at me and then goes back to his computer.

I take the papers he gave me and walk to the elevator to take me to my room. Once I step out of the elevator, I slide the car into the slot and open my door. Placing the cup in the trash and the papers on the kitchen table, I glance at the clock and am disappointed to see that it's only 7:50 AM. What to do, what to do?

I might as well start thinking of the type of house I want. Nothing too big, that'd just draw attention to me. A three-bedroom with two bathrooms should be fine. And, I need a yard and a backyard. Ohh, a deck would be nice. Then I could install a hot tub! The neighborhood has to be small and enclosed. I won't be socializing much and I don't want nosy neighbors. A library and an office would work too. But for an office, I need a job.

Damn it, I still have to go looking for work. But what do I want to work as? I could be a translator, that's within my expertise. But how I am supposed to go looking for work? The only job I'd ever have was within Caldwell Enterprises and that was as the assistant to the Director of International Affairs. Sure, I ended up doing most of the work myself because Dean was always gone and he didn't even understand any language besides English and Spanish. I was grateful for the job though, it gave me reason to not stay locked up in that house all the time.

However, I don't want to put that in my resume because then they'll call to check how I worked there and then they'll find out that I'm actually Isabella Caldwell and that's just going to start a huge mess. I could say that I have no work experience, but then who would hire me? This is just too confusing and now my head is starting to hurt.

I'll try to let myself forget all of my troubles, if only for a little while, and grab the remote of the table and turn on the TV. Aimlessly flickering through channels before stopping on the morning news, I freeze and drop the remote.

There's a picture of Trevor staring right at me through the TV. I turn up the volume. "We've just gotten word that three days ago, the youngest son of multi-millionaire Gregory Caldwell, Trevor Caldwell, was rushed to the a New York hospital in the middle of the night. The reasons why he was rushed to the hospital are unknown but it seems that he is the extensive care unit undergoing surgery as we speak. His injuries were great: a broken leg and an arm, fractured ribs, burns, great blood loss and extensive head trauma. Unconscious when he arrived, it does not seem as if he has awoken at all during these past three days. His entire family was seen arriving at the hospital two days ago and he was escorted in with his two brothers. Sadly, we have not been able to have word with any family members. However, there seems to be one person missing. Either every reporter here has missed her or she has not shown up, but Mrs. Isabella Caldwell, Trevor's wife, is not at the hospital." A picture of us at a gala along with a solo picture of myself showed up in the corner of the screen. I fleetingly looked at it, not wanting to see him anymore than necessary. "We will get back to you when we have more information regarding Mr. Caldwell." I numbly turn off the TV, my mind racing.

Great, my picture has just been shown to all of America on the 9 o'clock news. Perfect. People are going to recognize me and question why I'm across the country when my husband is probably on his death bed. No matter. I'm just gonna have to suck it up and just put on glasses. I doubt anybody's going to look closely enough and if they do, I can always say I'm on my way to the airport to take a flight to see my loving husband. But nobody's going to care about his wife so there's nothing to worry about. At least that's what I'm trying to convince myself about. I'll be fine. I'm all the way across the country and everybody's going to be focusing on New York. I'll be fine.

Okay, so I have about an hour and a half to kill. Now, what to do? I spot the papers on the kitchen table. Grabbing them and sitting back on the couch, I start looking at every designer and their respective area of expertise. Eliminating the ones that are male leaves me with seven choices off of the list that the concierge gave me: Adams, Alonso, Brent, Brightman, Cullen, Hill, and Montez.They all sound great but it depends on what I want my house to look like. I won't want anything close to what I had with Trevor so that eliminates Alonso, Brent and Montez. Good. I've narrowed it down to four people. I'll be able to narrow it down to one when I see the house. I glance at the clock. 9: 47 AM.

Giving up in trying to waste time, I head to my suitcase, grab my small dagger and tuck it into my shoe. Leaving the room, I make my way back down to the lobby. I make up my mind to buy breakfast as the appetizing aroma of pancakes makes its way to my nose. I walk into the store and am seated fairly quickly at a table with perfect view of the lobby. I pick up the menu and order orange juice with an order of pancakes and a side of eggs and bacon.

I marvel at how many different types of people there are from my view post until my food comes. Wanting to waste as much time as possible, I eat slowly. My mind occasionally wanders to Trevor but I rid myself of those thoughts as soon as they come, not wanting to have a panic attack at the restaurant.

As soon as I finish with my breakfast, I leave $50 and check my watch. 10:31. Close enough. I head outside and sit on a bench. Three hotel cars are parked outside but there's nobody standing by them.

It seems I'm so far gone in my thoughts that I don't hear the driver call my name. So, he does the only things left to do to get my attention. He taps my shoulder.

An innocent thing, right? People tap each others shoulders all the time.

So, I'm sure the driver was confused, and maybe even a bit frightened, when I let out a shriek and subconsciously grab my dagger.

The driver's eyes are wide with fright at what I'm grabbing from my shoe and he innocently lifts up his hands in a sign of innocence. I look at my surroundings, seeing Trevor's face all around me. His dark blue eyes look at me and his lips twist up into a mischievous grin. I start turning around, getting ready to run, when I hear a voice completely different from Trevor's call my name.

"Ms. Swan? Just calm down. Ms. Swan, nobody's going to hurt you. Ms. Swan, do you want me to get help?"

I look at the direction the voice is coming from. All of a sudden, I'm alone. There's no Trevor anywhere near me and all that's there is a scared and confused driver. I absently shake my head at him. I didn't come to Los Angeles to get locked up in a room with white walls. I could have stayed in New York for that.

"I'm sorry…I was just-I don't like it when people touch me." I say, trying to apologize to the driver. I realize that he's staring at something. Following his gaze, I see the dagger in my hand. Embarrassed at letting everything get so out of hand, I tuck the dagger back in my shoe. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for all of this to happen. I just-"

"No, um…I shouldn't have tapped your shoulder. It's just, you didn't hear me and I didn't know how else to get your attention." He was looking at me like I was a bomb about to go off. In a way, I already went off if you think about it. Running my hands through my hair, I look away from the driver to see if anybody else had seen my outburst. It seems like I'm finally lucky: there's nobody around. The driver avoids looking at me but asks me if I'm ready to go. I just nod and get into the back of the car that he gestured. No need to make things more awkward by getting into the front.

I glance out the tinted windows throughout the car ride. The driver doesn't say anything and I keep quiet as well. There's some traffic and that elongates the car ride. Eventually pulling up in front of a small business, the driver gets out and opens my door. I glance at the building, noting how well-kept it is. Wondering how I'm going to get back to the hotel, I turn back to the driver before opening the building's door. "Um, are you going to wait here for me?"

He shakes his head. "I'm supposed to head back because you're supposed to leave to go look at houses. But I can stay if you need me to…"

"No, it's fine. Are you going to pick me up?"

"Um, no. The lady that you're seeing is supposed to have somebody drive you back." He says, already heading back to the driver's seat. "Goodbye, miss."

Well, he clearly wanted to get to leave me. Figures, he saw me basically threaten him with a dagger. Turning back to the building, I open the door and step inside. Immediately, the secretary glances up and welcomes me. I inform her that I have an appointment and she tells me to sit down while she tells Mrs. Harper that I've arrived.

Five minutes later, I'm ushered into a room. A woman about 40 years old, who I assume is , stands up to greet me. She has dirty blonde hair tied in a ponytail and wears a suit that is clearly designer. Gucci, but the looks of it. She's a bit taller than me, especially in her heels, but my 5'5 frame isn't that hard to beat.

"Ms. Swan, my name is Jackie Harper. I'll be helping you find a house that suits your needs. I must say that I don't normally take appointments in such a short period of time but I don't have any appointments now." She says as she shakes my hand. I can see her discreetly analyzing my clothing. By the look on her face, she isn't satisfied with what she sees and is regretting her decision to attend to me. Her type is all the same.

"My name is Isabella but you can call me Bella. I can assure you that you won't regret the meeting." _'Even though you already do'_ I silently say to myself.

"Very well Bella. Let's start easy. What type of neighborhood do you want to live in?" she says as she begins to get ready to type.

"Small neighborhood. A gated neighborhood isn't necessary but if it's the only option available then I'll take it. I'll be happier if the houses had some space between each other. It doesn't matter how far away it is from everything." I list off, thinking back to the list I made earlier.

"Ok, then. What type of house do you have in mind?" She says, her eyes still on the screen.

"Three bedrooms and two bathrooms. A backyard and a deck would be nice."

After going through all the questions, Ms. Harper said that there were about three houses like that: one in West Hollywood, another in La Mirada, and the last in Beverly Hills. Looking at the pictures of the houses on her computer, I fell in love with the one in West Hollywood. It was exactly what I pictured the house to be like in my head.

~Rebuilding~

Before I knew it, I was heading back to the hotel, the new owner of a beautiful house. Ms. Harper was surprised when I decided to pay half the price upfront and even more surprised when she saw the name on my credit card. Luckily she kept quiet and didn't ask questions, although I did see her sending questioning glances my way.

I arrived at the hotel and went straight up to my room, intent on calling a designer so that I can move in as soon as possible. Going through the list I made earlier, two of them already were booked for the whole week, so I was out of luck. Almost resigning, I decided to call the last one. _Esme Cullen_.

"Hello."

"Hi, is this Esme Cullen?" I asked.

"Yes, this is she. Can I help you?" she questioned.

"Well…I was given a list of interior designers and you were on there…and I've called everybody else but they don't have any time within this week. So, you're my last hope and if you'd help me, I'd really appreciate it and I'd pay you good money-"

She laughed. "You don't have to be nervous, sweetie. I don't have any appointments for a week and I'd be happy to help. You just give me the address to your house and we'll meet up at whatever time is okay with you. We can start off with designing the interior of the house to your request and then we would have everything brought in to fix the house up." She stated.

"Is it okay if we could meet up early? I want to have everything done as soon as possible so I can move in."

"Of course, if you'd just tell me the address of the place we'll get started early tomorrow." She said eagerly.

I gave her the address and told her to meet up at 8.

"It was really nice to meet you. I'm sure something good is going to come out of this. See you tomorrow." And then she was gone. Why do I have a feeling that she was hinting at something? _'Something good is going to come out of this'_ What the hell does that mean? All she's supposed to do is fix up my house. And she sounded way too eager to meet me. 'Weird lady,' I thought as I put the phone down.

I wondered what the hell I was going to be in store for tomorrow as I made my way down to the restaurant to get something to eat before going bed. After finishing my food, I headed back up to my room, intent on getting a shower and curling up with a cup of coffee before heading to bed.

I was about to make coffee after just getting out a nice, relaxing shower when my cell phone started ringing. I froze up, my mind going up a mile a minute. Nobody knows my number. Trevor didn't let me give it to anybody outside of his family. So, then it's a Caldwell. I hesitated before reaching out for the cell phone. _Sebastian Caldwell _flashed across the screen. My hands were shaking as I fumbled with the phone before pressing the green button.

"Sebastian?"

"Hey, Bella." His voice sound somber.

"Why are you calling me?" I nervously got out.

"I have to admit that I didn't think you would answer. But, I'm glad you did." He said quietly.

"Why are you talking so quietly? And why did you call me? I would have thought you Caldwells would have wanted nothing to do with me." My voice grew in both volume and confidence as I thought about their family, bringing up unwanted memories to the surface. I ran my hand through my hair before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Well, my family wouldn't be happy if they knew I was talking to you and Dean would blow a gasket," he said, laughing quietly. "But I know why you did what you did. That doesn't mean I'm happy about what you did because above all he is my brother, but I get it."

I cut him off before he could say more, my anger flaring up. "I don't need your pity party. I never relied on you and I'm certainly not gonna start to now. Why be compassionate when everything has already been done? The only thing I need from you is to keep Trevor away from me when he gets out of that hospital."

"You know I'm not gonna be able able to do that." He said, back to being somber.

"Well, then you won't like how he's gonna be when he finds me. Six years, Sebastian. Six years!" My emotions got the better of me. I took a deep breath to calm down. "Just keep him away." I said, before hanging up. My cell phone slipped out of my grasp and onto the floor. I didn't bother picking it up as I lay back on the bed.

I finally realized that I wasn't going to be able to rid myself of the Caldwells or my past. The only question was whether I was going to be strong enough the next time I saw them. Because I was positive that I would see them again.

**So, in order to make up for the long absence I wrote 10 pages on Microsoft which is the longest chapter I've written for the story so far. Personally, I don't like this chapter. I was trying to get the idea that Bella is very uncomfortable around people but I don't think I did it well enough. And I know I said we'd finally see the Cullens, but my hand had other ideas when it started typing. Again, sorry for the long wait! I'll try to make it shorter. Review please!**


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